Taking the Long Way Back
by PurpleCandyCorn
Summary: On the way to a gig, during a fight over food, Dewey crashes the van and the band somehow get seperated. It's up to each of their groups to work together to make it back home. Can you say working at McDonalds and MTV style karaoke?
1. Who Said We Were Screwed?

Disclaimer: If I owned it I wouldn't be writing a fanfic. I'd be out there writing a sequel and making money off my ideas for a change. Haha. How do you like that, suckers?

* * *

"We're screwed."

"We're not screwed, Freddy," Zack said reasonably. "We just… need to practice. But only a little."

"A little, huh?" Freddy muttered moodily.

His band mates frowned at him. It wasn't like Freddy to be so negative. But Freddy was Spazzy McGee after all, and damn if that ADD medication didn't mess with his attitude every once in a while. But truthfully, it was unlikely that his medicine was the culprit this time. As much as they hated to admit it, they really would be screwed if they didn't get better at this song before their 7 PM gig on Wednesday.

Today was Sunday: their three hour practice day. They had practice every day except Mondays and Fridays, but weekday practices only lasted an hour, because of homework and all that super fun stuff…

Summer was about to tell Freddy off, but Dewey interrupted, arriving with the pizza he had gone to get.

"Hey, Zack, move the guitar case, man. I step on that an' there goes Katie's Eleven-Ninety-Five all over Ned's floor."

"Sorry, Dewey," Zack said, sliding it out of the way with his foot.

"So how's that new song comin'?"

"We stink."

Dewey frowned. "C'mon now, don't- why… Why d'ya say that, guys?"

"Because it's almost true," Summer interjected, gloomily.

"Shut up Summer!" Freddy snapped at her. "You shouldn't even be talking! It's not like you actually play!"

Summer appeared a bit hurt. She always had been a little sensitive to the fact that she was seen as the manager: AKA not a "real" member of the band. Summer got it together quickly enough to snap back at him. "I'm the one who WROTE the song! And, it's true! I didn't say you stunk, I said almost, and it's better than saying you're all screwed!"

Dewey exchanged looks with the band, lost. "Who said we were screwed?"

Katie sighed, "Never mind. The only ones who really have their parts down are the singers and Larry. The rest of us aren't totally bad, but we'll need to practice a lot more."

Dewey dropped the pizza box on the kitchen table and flipped the top open. Half cheese, half sausage; the band could never agree on just one topping. He didn't seem terribly worried, as he took a slice. "Don't worry guys, we've got a whole--"

"Three days."

"But it's just that Wednesday's the day after the day after tomorrow!"

"If you rock hard enough at practice, we'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" Katie asked uncertainly.

"Hell, yeah! You guys are kick ass awesome."

"Yeah." Freddy smirked lazily. "We know."

Summer glared. "That wasn't directed at you."

"I said 'we' didn't I? Geez."

Summer pursed her lips. "Get to work if you're so obsessed with your suck-age level!"

"Listen to your wise leader!" Dewey shouted, referring to Summer as a string of cheese dangled from his chin. "Let's all y'all getta rockin'!"

Their Wise Leader (cough) managed to talk Principal Mullins into letting the band leave school at twelve-thirty the day of the gig, seeing how it would take about four hours to get there, and then they needed to set up, practice, and eat. That would leave them just enough time to be ready for seven o'clock.

And plus they needed the rest of the week off, seeing as they'd be super exhausted after one whole grueling performance... Not really. Actually, the place they were headed was right next to two amusement parks and a beach. Obviously they needed the rest of the week to check it out.

"Thank you, Miss Mullins. You don't know how much this means to the band. We've had this booked for 2 months," Summer said.

"Oh, well I'm glad to have helped. It's so nice that the children have… well, a creative outlet, let's call it." Miss Mullins smiled from behind her desk.

"Don't worry, you won't be disappointed. I don't know why you would be, but-" Summer stopped herself at her principal's quirked eyebrow ."- …thank you." Hurriedly, sheheaded out the door and back to her classroom.

"What'd she say?" they all demanded as she entered.

"Guys, just chill. You know Roz wouldn't say anything other than yes to us," said Dewey, who was lounging against the windows on the opposite side of the room.

Shortly after Dewey had turned himself in as a fraud, Ned was qualified enough to become a licensed, certified teacher; shortly after that, he had gotten a job at Horace Green, taking over the class of the infamous band, School of Rock, who had had such an impact on their principal that they hadn't been split up into different classes since starting the band. And of course Dewey visited regularly as a "guest speaker". The staff was so familiar with his visits that he didn't even need one of those lame visitor's stickers anymore.

"Am I right, Tinkerbell?"

Summer nodded, going over to where Katie was hanging out with Marta, near Dewey. "She said it was good for us all to have a creative outlet."

"Except midget up there who can't even play anything!" Freddy whisper-yelled to Frankie, who just sniggered.

Summer glared back at his little posse in the back corner.

"Lay off Summer, man. Let's just practice. Gig's the day after tomorrow!" Zack said, clearly excited. He practically skipped over to the closet to pull out the instruments. Katie smiled at him.

"He's always so nice. He never lets Freddy pick on you."

"Aww!" Marta grinned teasingly.

"I've known him since I was four! Come on now, guys."

Summer rolled her eyes at her friends good-naturedly; they loved to tease her about how Zack always took up for her. But it was completely platonic: there wasn't anything deeper behind it. They went back, that's all. Plus a romance could never happen between any School of Rock members. The drama of it all would be waaaaayyy too distracting.

Dewey suddenly blew into his microphone, filling the room with noise.

"Dude! At least give me time to put up the soundproofing!" Frankie yelled over the obnoxious noises.

Dewey ignored his plea. "Testing…! Testing! Testing, testing, testing, testing, testing!"

He turned it into a crafty little song, doing a jig to go with it.

"Testing, we're testing!

That bird outside is nesting,

When the lazy thing really should be rocking,

And hey Freddy, dude, watch out for that cord--!"

**THUD**. Freddy, who had been making his way over to his drum set, tripped over a thick black cord that was snaked across the room, going somersaulting into the cabinet, in which the only shelf spilled several dozen fat markers onto his spiky head.

Everyone in the room burst into a fit of giggles (excuse me _laughs_; rockers do _not _giggle), even the "nice ones" like Marco and Lawrence, who seriously tried to keep a straight face.

"Never mind then," Dewey continued. "Where was I? Oh yeah. Hey you! Big bird!" He rushed over to the window and stuck his head out, still yelling into his mike. "Get in here, man! Get in on this! We're about to start a serious jam session and you're missing out! Come on, we don't bite unless asked! Hey, don't you fly away from me! HEY! GET BACK! WE NEED ANOTHER BACKUP SINGER! HEY!"

"Dewey," Zack laughed. "Go back to bed, man."

* * *

Ha. Wow. Go ahead and admit that was awesome. You can pretend the gang's 14/15 now. Or you can just picture them as loveable little 10/11-year-olds. Or you can be like me, and not focus on their age, because honestly, it doesn't have anything to do with the story, because this isn't a romance fic and that's how I planned it. Thanks for reading!


	2. Flight of the Rockers

Thanks for reviewing. I thought everybody would be like "What?! No love triangle?! (clicks out)" But yeah. You guys captured exactly what I was going for: No romance. Even though that's like all I read (cough). Yeehaw. On to chapter 2, already! Heck yes.

And it only took me two months!

* * *

"Freddy Jones!" Alicia snapped. "If you don't stop hitting my seat with those damned sticks--"

"What're you gonna do, brace-face? Bite me?"

Whoever's bright idea it was to trip Alicia at the skating rink and RUN OVER HER HAND TWO FREAKING TIMES… the School of Rock would officially like to thank you.

…not.

Not only was it a low thing to do, but it also caused a helluva lot of pain and misery. On the band's part, that is. Alicia was a sassy kid as it was, but with an injury she was like a bear on crack… with PMS.

Yes. Thank Freddy and Frankie for that one.

Plus every time a staff member walked into their classroom for one reason or another, they'd coo, "Aww, what happened?" and at which point Alicia would launch into the tale of the 40-year-old Freddie Mercury look-alike wearing glittery, bright teal hot pants rolling right over her delicate little palm after she had fallen oh-so-painfully on her backside.

And on top of that… Summer was also in a pissy mood seeing as how the injured one got her seat, and she was stuck sitting in the back of the van with everyone else. Bleh.

The last remaining days before their trip hadn't been nearly as hectic. They had flown by, which actually sucked, seeing as how that led to less practice… and a few, uh, misunderstandings.

The phone call that took place only hours ago went something like this:

"Dude, Freddy, where are you?!"

"What are you talking about, man? Home."

"What do you mean 'home'?! You were supposed to be here, at school, five hours ago! We leave for the gig in 15 minutes!"

"What? But it's Sunday."

"Freddy! How do you confuse Wednesday and Sunday?!"

"Chill out, Zack, I'll be there."

"You better! We need a drummer, man!"

"What did I just say? Chillax. How many minutes again?"

"Now it's ten!"

"…"

"Freddy!"

"Holy shit, seriously?"

But it was all good. The situation got sorted out and they were on there way with only a few awkward questions.

"Dude, what were you doing anyway?"

"...Making grilled cheese.…"

"In his boxers. Ugh!"

"How do you know Summer?!" Freddy demanded.

"I had to go up to the house to get you, remember? It's not my fault someone took down every curtain in your house."

"They were dirty, okay! And white isn't easy to wash!"

"Oh yeah… Haha. I wondered why she ran back to the van like that."

"I've never seen Summer run so fast!"

"You must've looked pretty bad, Freddy."

"Cool it, guys. Just because Freddy's six-pack isn't nearly on the same level of sexiness as mine…" Dewey interjected.

"Okay, this is effing ridiculous! Now even Dewey's getting involved!" Freddy pouted, and climbed to the back of the van.

But now, after two hours of driving squashed in the back of a smelly-ass van, the band was exhausted. And hungry.

"C'mon Dewey, that's the fourth food place you've passed!" Gordon whined from behind his laptop.

"I know there's a Mickey D's around here somewheres…" Dewey said to himself.

"Who cares?" Katie slumped against the back of Dewey's seat. "We're dying back here. I'm not really worried about who has better French fries at this point."

"Pfft. You'll care when you get a job and want your money's worth!"

"I didn't know you had a job," Billy said seriously, cocking his head.

"Yeah," Zack said, puzzled also. "I thought you just mooched off of Ned--"

"Hey, hey, hey! What's with the third degree?" Dewey demanded, finally spying a McDonalds. "There you are, you little sucker… come to me… but like I was sayin': Mooching is an art. Learn to love and appreciate it."

Freddy's head popped up from behind the pile of luggage he was sleeping in, excuse me: _guarding_. "Hey, Dewey, can you give me some art lessons? When Summer's president I wanna get in on it."

Summer snorted from her place squished between Lawrence's keyboard and Marco.

"That'll be the day. You need to be at least somewhat charming to mooch. And you're about as charming as a--"

"What the hell, Summer!" Freddy yelled. "I thought you were asleep!"

"She's been awake the whole time." Zack cocked an eyebrow and smirked amusedly at his friend. "Right, Larry?" he added in an effort to get him to speak up a little. However, his attempt failed, as Larry simply gave a polite nod to Freddy.

"Pfft! If I had known that I would've never said anything. My plan is pretty much ruined now that she's heard it," Freddy said, disappearing once again behind his mountain.

"Hey," Dewey called, throwing a sharpie, a newspaper ad and several stained napkins their way. "You know the drill! If you don't write what you want on the paper, it's not gettin' ordered!"

There was a brief scramble over the paper before Summer took charge and wrote everyone's orders down.

"Are you sure you wrote my nuggets?"

"I wanted vanilla, did you put that?"

"Everything everyone said got written down," Summer said, annoyed.

"Fork it over." Dewey thrust his hand over his shoulder.

"What do you say?" Summer raised her eyebrows.

"Please and thank you kindly. Now can I have the list to order?"

"You're welcome and yes, you may."

You really have to have sympathy on the poor woman at the back window as she tried to keep the band's order straight; sixteen people worth of food was a lot to keep track of.

"And three orders of chocolate nachos. And yes, that'll be all."

"Um… I'm sorry… We don't serve chocolate nachos here."

"Dewey!" Eleni hissed. "That says milkshakes!"

"What? You call that an 'M'?!"

Dewey drove up to the second window and got everything as it was handed to him.

"That'll be 42.63, please."

"…."

"Dewey?"

"Anybody got… 30.54?"

"What!"

"You can't be serious!"

"Yeah, Summer," Freddy panicked, obviously worried about his Big Mac. "Give the man 30 bucks."

"Ma'am, I'm going to need you to place your hands in your little window and step back," Dewey said seriously to the drive-thru cashier, looking her right in the eye.

She knit her brows together, obviously confused. "O... kay?"

Dewey slammed his foot to the pedal and turned the wheel so that they flew right over the bump of cement that guided the path through the drive-thru, skidded through the parking lot and onto the highway. "Dude!" everyone cried in unison as suitcases flew open and instrument cases rained down on their heads. Of course there was no stopping after that, and Dewey kept driving as he handed out everyone's food.

"I can't believe you did that!" Summer squealed. "That's against the law! What if she got your license plate number down?"

Dewey ignored it, as if he did stuff like that all the time. "Okay, who ordered the--_twenty piece nugget?_! What! No wonder the tab was fifty bucks!"

"Marco," Summer said matter-of-factly, taking the box and handing it to him.

"Marco, dude! You could fit in that box!"

Marco shrugged. "You should have stopped earlier."

"Haha," Zack laughed. "Go Marco."

"C'mon, man, hurry up!" Freddy tossed a shirt that had fallen out of its suitcase at Dewey's head. "I'm starving! Where's my Big Mac?"

"Whoa!" Dewey hollered as the shirt flew right over his face. "My sight! It's gone _green_!"

"Freddy!" Marta screeched. "Those are my underwear!"

...Scratch that part about a "shirt".

"Somebody get it off him!" Summer panicked as Dewey swerved dangerously close to the edge of the forest they were driving by.

"Dewey, get it off, man!" Zack said.

"Rule one of driving," Dewey said, "Never take your hands off the wheel!"

"This is no time for rules!" Tomika yelled. "You're gonna get us killed!"

At least seven pairs of hands grabbed for the "shirt" at once, but it being tugged in that many different directions didn't do any good at all.

"Let go!" Alicia said. "Let me get it."

With her uninjured hand, she ripped the garment off his face. It did so much good that he was able to see where he was going! Right before the van plummeted right off the road and into the woods, the impact sending it flipping over.

* * *

Hm. Originally, it wasn't Freddy's fault that the van crashed. It was just that everybody wanted their food at the same time. But, oh well. That's how it worked out. Don't worry, no one dies. I wouldn't put that much on Freddy's poor little conscience. Thanks for reading!


	3. Rainbow Connection

So, after 3 years… have you missed me?

Haha. To be honest with you, I was never, ever going to come back to this story. School of Rock is still my favorite movie, but after about two years of reading fan fiction stories on Quizilla (I've gone over to the dark side, I know! Haha) I decided that this was my baby, even though the first two chapters had quite a few mistakes. (I actually called Gordon, the kid who did the lights, THE LIGHTS KID in chapter two, just because I had forgotten his name at the moment when I was writing it, and I DIDN'T GO BACK TO FIX IT. How embarrassing is that?)

So forgive me if I can't get my humor back on. But hopefully, someone remembers this story, and comes back into its clutches. Or, new readers get into it! That'd be sweet, too.

If you didn't notice, I rewrote the first two chapters. I didn't change the dialogue much, or events, but I did seriously fix the grammar and definitely the "Lights Kid" thing. Haha.

* * *

Dewey wasn't really sure what time it was, or how long they had been lying there, in their upside-down van in the forest. But he did know that he was a-hurtin'. A fact that he decided to express to his fellow band-mates.

"I'm a-hurtin', dudes." He said, not opening his eyes.

He hadn't been seat-belted, so it was pretty miraculous that he was alive, well, and still in proximity of the drivers' seat. He didn't get a response, so he decided to try again to reach his band.

"Hey, dudes, you alright? Man, I'm sorry, but I seriously blame those flying underoos. What were you thinking, packing those distracting things, Marta?"

Still not getting a response, he called out once more. "Alicia? Marco? The Ninja Turtle otherwise known as Leonard? Gordon, stop ignoring me! I know you're still on that laptop, Myspace-ing it up! Yo! Yo, King of the Mountain, are you alright, back there? Freddy, I'm talking to you!"

Dewey suddenly noticed a slight pressure on his chest, and decided to open his eyes when something made a clicking sound in response from above him. "HEY!" He shouted, directly in the face of the woodland creature, otherwise known as a chipmunk, that was sitting on his chest. "You're not Freddy!"

Dewey cried out as it chirped again, as if protesting. He flung it off, and hurriedly rolled over, and managed to fit himself out of the busted window, before the chipmunk could unleash its full power and gnaw through his kneecaps.

He got up slowly, surveying the damage. Ned was definitely not going to get any rent money this month… Ah well. He brushed off his clothes, bending down to look through the cracked windows of the van, not seeing anyone. He surveyed the clearing, still not seeing any sign of the band. And from the looks of it they--or a wandering, homeless mountain man--had cleared all of their equipment out as well.

"Son of a--" Dewey muttered to himself, before hearing someone yelling behind him.

He turned and found a path where all the shrubbery and brush had been cleared by the van sliding through, and started his way up. He made his way to the top, which was right on the edge of the highway, where he found Marta, Eleni, and Alicia, who was sitting on her suitcase.

"HEY!" Alicia was yelling, as she stuck her thumb up, towards the passing cars. "IS IT TOO MUCH TROUBLE TO STOP AND HELP A FEW PRECIOUS LITTLE GIRLS?! HEY!"

Apparently, they had left Dewey for dead, chipmunk bait in the van so that they could hitchhike. "Dudes," He demanded. "Great to see that you're alright, but what the hell?"

"You're alive!" Marta said in disbelief, rushing forward to hug him.

"Thanks Blondie, but what's up? I had a woodland creature that was riddled with disease and possibly strung out on shrooms this close to my face!" He said, pinching his fingers a centimeter apart.

"By the time we woke up, the three of us and you were the only ones left," Eleni explained.

Dewie closed his eyes, running his hand back through his hair in frustration. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that, guys. That was so… un-awesome, y'know? Damn… So is anyone hurt?"

The girls shook their heads.

"Just kind of bruised up, and I don't think I'm gonna be able to get this cast off anytime soon. We don't know about anyone else." Alicia said.

"Guys, I think I have the answer. Seriously, I knew they were capable, and this is the perfect time for the rest of the band to bust out the ability."

They looked at him blankly.

"What are you talking about?" Marta asked.

"Teleportation, guys! Seriously, I thought you were all capable, until the roll rink incident with you, Alicia, because at that point I knew you didn't possess the gift, because before that dude skated over your hand, you would've just teleported right on over to the snack bar, y'know, but I gave the other two of you the benefit of the doubt, and--"

"Dewey, that's not what happened." Eleni interrupted.

"It isn't?"

"No, Dewey."

"So, you mean… they just left us here? …On foot?"

The girls nodded.

Dewey shook his head. "That's not even cool. I wonder where they are…"

()

"Dude," Freddy said, "I'm telling you, this is the best plan we've got!" He held up four applications, waving them in front of the rest of the group, who were sitting at a booth in the back corner of McDonald's.

"They'll never give us jobs. Especially not all four of us," Tomika said reasonably.

"They're McDonald's. How desperate can people be for a job here?" Frankie said, taking one.

Freddy took a seat next to Billy, sliding an application to him, and then one Tomika's way. Billy looked it over unsurely, but then nodded. "I guess it'll have to do. I don't know any other way we can pay to get the van fixed and back home."

Tomika still looked doubtful, but nodded as well, and started to fill out her own. They got done pretty quickly, with hardly any occurrences ("What do I do if I don't know my social security?" Frankie asked seriously. "Make one up. That's what I did," Freddy said. Billy rolled his eyes.), and they were ready to hand them in to the manager.

"Well," the manager, Hank, said to the group, as they stood before him. "We are short-handed… Are you guys sure you're old enough to work?"

"Oh, hell yeah, man," Frankie answered, and Tomika nudged him with her elbow.

Hank raised his eyebrow at him, before looking back down at their applications. "So, which one of you is… Billy?"

"I am!" Billy answered brightly, raising his hand up high.

"Yeah…" Hank said, raising his eyebrow once again. "It says here that you have extensive experience with clothes and fashion."

"That's right!"

"So, for you, I'm thinking assistant manager."

The mouths of Billy's three companions dropped open. "Are you serious?"

Hank nodded. "Yeah, uniform violations drive me insane. I want you to be on top of that."

Billy nodded happily. "Can do, Hank!"

"Alright then. Tomika, are you alright with drive-thru?" Tomika nodded.

"And… Frankie, I think I have a good spot for you in maintenance, and Freddy, fry cook. So, how do you guys feel about starting now?"

The kids' eyes widened in surprise at their luck. "'Now', as in right this second?" Freddy asked.

"Yeah, if that's possible. I wasn't exaggerating when I said that we were short-staffed."

"You don't have to run those through a computer or anything?" Tomika said, pointing to their applications.

"Yeah, you don't have to run any sort of criminal check?" Frankie said, causing everyone else to give him strange looks.

"Um… no?" Hank answered. "Should I?"

"Aw, no," Frankie said, playing it off with a nervous chuckle. "Nah, man. I'm just messing with you… heh…."

()

"What are we going to do?" Michelle groaned, her head in her hands. "We don't even know where we are! We never should have taken off on our own!"

"We'll figure something out," Katie reassured her timidly, not sounding so sure of it herself.

Summer and Marco sat on the curb next to them, looking around. The four of them, as far as they knew, had been the first to leave the group after the accident. They had made their way to the highway several hours ago, and had managed to jump up and down and yell, looking pathetic and desperate enough to get a public transit bus to stop for them.

They had planned to convince the driver to stop long enough to get the rest of the band onboard, so they could find a place where they could regroup, and possibly call Ned to come get them, but it hadn't quite worked out that way.

"There's enough room at the back," the bus driver had told them boredly.

"But we need you to wait for a minute, just for us to get our friends. They--"

"Look, this ain't a charity. I'm doing you a favor by letting you kids on with no money. I can't let the whole damn Rainbow Connection on the bus, alright? I've got other passengers, so just get in the back."

So they had been kicked off a half an hour later with their instruments, at the bus driver's first stop, in a small urban area that they didn't know the name of.

"Well," Marco said, standing up. "It's not really doing us any good sitting here."

The other three agreed, and stood up, surveying the area. No one was really around other than a few pedestrians, and a dozen or so construction workers that were hammering away on the structure of some half-finished building.

Summer immediately took action, and started doing what she did best: bossing everyone else around. "Look, I think the first thing to do would be to find a payphone, and--"

"We don't have money for a payphone." Michelle said. "Don't you have your cell phone? You're the only one of us that has one."

Summer shook her head. "I couldn't find it when we got out of the van. I think it must have flown out a window or something. But I mean, how hard can it be for us to get fifty cents? We can pull it out of a gutter, or borrow it from someone. We're cute kids, right?"

"Or if worse comes to worst, sell a kidney. You don't need both, anyway. Miss Dunham taught us that one," Marco added, resulting in some very disturbed looks from his peers. "Well, it's just common sense…" He trailed off, looking around awkwardly.

"Yeah, I don't think it'll come to that, but at least we have each other," Katie said optimistically.

"Right." Michelle nodded.

"Maybe one of them has money," Marco suggested, pointing to the construction workers.

"Right." Summer agreed. "It'd be good to ask them."

Everyone looked at her, unmoving.

"What? You want me to ask?"

"You're the 'wise leader'."

"Are you serious?"

They nodded.

"Oh, but… Fine!"

Summer marched through the construction site, to a man standing over what looked to be blueprints. He must have been the foreman.

"Excuse me?" She said to him. "Can I ask if you'll let me borrow fifty cents to make a phone call?"

"Get out of here, kid. It's not legal for us to have you on site. You could get hurt."

What was it with adults and their complaints today?

"But we only need two quarters! We need to get home!"

"Look, we're busy. Can't you steal from a take-a-penny jar, or something?"

"You're busy, sure, but you're not even working efficiently! Anyone with a brain would know that that beam right there is going to collapse under the weight of the rest of the building unless you put it in at a forty-five degree angle!" Summer fumed, gesturing to a board that had been hammered in straight across between two others.

The foreman looked between her, and the board, flabbergasted. "Yeah, well… what do you know?"

"I'm taking advanced geometry! It's simple math!"

The foreman stared at her, contemplating. "Look… I'll be straight with you, I need someone like you onboard. How about you work for me?"

"It's 'illegal' to have kids on the site, remember?" Summer snapped.

"No one from the state comes by to check, anyway. And I'll pay you."

"Pay?" Summer stopped, mid-turn, from making her dramatic exit.

"Yes'm."

"And can my friends have jobs, too?"

"Friends? I can't let the whole--"

"Yeah, yeah, I know! You can't let the whole damn Rainbow Connection on, but you're either taking all of us, or none!"

"Rainbow Connection…?"

"Do you want my help, or not?"

"Yeah, alright! Geez! Bring in your friends!"

Summer smiled, pleased, and went to gather the rest of her group.

"Did he give you the money?" Marco asked, hopeful to keep his kidney.

"No, but he's going to; I got us jobs."

"Jobs on a construction site? Are you serious?"

"Yep," Summer said. "And the foreman wants to meet us now, so let's go."

"Well," the foreman said, as they walked up. "You don't really look like any rainbow I've ever seen, but you're in."

He pulled four hardhats from a nearby bench, and handed them out to them. The kids put them on, looking at each other nervously.

"You ever use a Stanley FatMax, before?" he asked them, pulling out three hammers for Marco, Michelle, and Katie.

()

It might surprise you to find that one of the scattered groups of rockers actually did find their way to Bronze Knuckles, the club they were scheduled to perform at later that evening. And if you know the band at all, it might surprise you even more that Summer had not been included in said group.

In fact, it had been Zack, Gordon, Leonard, and the ever-timid Larry that had trouped through the doors two hours after they had been expected to start warming up, to the intense panic of the club's owner, James.

He had flown at them as soon as they had shut the door behind them, demanding frantically, "Are you School of Rock? I thought there were more of you! There are supposed to be more of you! You're late! What happened?!" James whipped the beanie off of his head to fan himself with it. The boys exchanged worried looks. "My God, it is hot in here, especially for me. Especially when a show is about to start. Especially when the band isn't here. Why is the band not here?!" The poor man was seriously having a breakdown.

Zack quickly held up a hand, hoping to stop James from bursting into tears. "Look, dude, we're sorry. There was an accident and--"

"What kind of accident?" James demanded, looking--if possible--even more panicked than before.

Leonard, with some assistance from Zack, began to explain the best he could what had happened ("--and then Freddy wanted Summer to be president, and Dewey thought McDonald's had chocolate nachos, and he got hit in the face with underwear and crashed into the woods and now we're here!")

Halfway through his explanation, James had ushered the boys to a nearby table and had began to breathe into a paper bag that the bartender had handy (He honestly didn't look surprised at James's freak-out.) and had started to, little-by-little, visibly calm down. "Well, it's good that you made it here. You better start warming up. Tino can help you set the stage and--"

"Woah, man. No, we can't go on," Zack said. "Only two of our musicians are here, we--"

"Yeah, I'm really sorry about your friends," said James, and actually looked like he meant it. "But you have to go on. It's sort of a motto around here." He pointed across the bar to the window, where "THE SHOW ALWAYS GOES ON!" was painted in red and gold letters. "And your manager signed the contract."

The band was at a loss for words, until Larry shocked everyone by saying, "Freddy was right. We really are screwed."

* * *

Hey, by the way, does anyone know how to (if possible) double-space these things? I've been manually doing it in 'edit' but it won't stay like that when I change it and the whole format is really ugly the way it is.

Thanks for reading!


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